Still Breathing
by Shaitanah
Summary: Somewhere along the way Sasuke and Itachi meet again. But it’s always ‘until next time’ with Itachi. [Uchihacest Sasuke’s POV] Please R&R!


**Title**: "Still Breathing"

**Author**: Shaitanah

**Rating**: R

**Summary**: Somewhere along the way Sasuke and Itachi meet again. But it's always 'until next time' with Itachi. [Uchihacest; Sasuke's POV Please R&R!

**Disclaimer**: belongs to Kishimoto Masashi and whoever else that is not me… I really wish I would have thought of such cool characters first))

**A/N**: My first Naruto fic born from the anime scenes with Itachi and what my friend has told me. I'm afraid it's not really original, but I kind of like it anyway. Enjoy!

* * *

**STILL BREATHING**

_Feed me, here, fill me up again, _

_Temporarily pacify this hungering…_

A Perfect Circle.

* * *

Here I hoped we were even. Once and for all. But that didn't make me feel happy. I didn't feel anything. A pang of fear jolted through my heart.

'_Even if you win, you'll feel only emptiness.'_

I chased my brother through the forest of black bare trees. Panting, sucking air in at deep draughts, I ran forth until I could no longer feel my legs. My whole body slick like a flying dart, I lunged forward. I wouldn't let him go.

'_I'm ready. And I'm waiting.'_

Executing a move of impressive swiftness, Itachi blocked me and set me flying backwards, into a huge tree. I turned over in the air and landed on my feet, snarling.

I had learnt not to waste words. With words, I would also be wasting my breath. We fought in silence not even the sound of our bodies whistling through the thin air could interrupt.

The wind died down. I couldn't breathe. I barely existed. The red and the black of his cloak in front of me petrified me for one instant. Itachi ended up very close to me; I slashed at him, but he averted my hand with graceful ease and, spinning me around, flung me at his feet. I rolled over and sprang up. No more humiliation! I would not stand it!

A small cold smile flashed on Itachi's lips. An incoherent sigh, something like 'hmm…' followed. I had the feeling that it was his manner of laughing at me.

The night was fading peacefully. Pale-golden light seeped through the retreating darkness and tinted the sky platinum. Hours and hours of fighting stretched behind us. Hours of dashing from one trap to another, running, springing over the tree tops, tearing through the bushes, clutching each other in deadly embrace and letting go. My body was covered in bruises. Only now the dull ache began breaking through, and I was engulfed in it like in a vortex of cold water.

Shadows danced around me. I shut my eyes. My senses high, I had no doubt they would lead me to my goal. My greatest enemy. The ground was shaking beneath my feet. Or maybe I was falling prey to my hatred once again. He used to say I lacked it.

"It's so easy to manipulate you, Sasuke," he whispered. He was very close, closer than I would have expected. Such miscalculation could have cost me everything. My victory. My triumph. My life.

I swung the katana and I could feel its blade tearing through the fabric… but not the flesh. All right, I didn't hit him. I ground my teeth into my lower lip and aimed for another blow.

"Open your eyes, little brother," Itachi whispered. The sound of his voice in complete and utter darkness made my blood boil.

One more. One more. One more. The drumbeat in my ears. One more hit, please.

I whirled in place and threw my leg forward. It connected with his chest, and I felt his body sinking back, falling, and the second he hit the ground, I was on top of him, holding my katana at his throat. I finally opened my eyes and looked at him. He was… smiling.

Smiling. Was that really a smile, that strange, frightening curve of lips?

"Are you afraid of death?" I asked through gritted teeth. No, of course not. Not him. Not ever. I lowered my face towards his and spat: "Why don't you feel anything?"

"Do you want me to teach you?" he asked coolly.

Taken aback, I merely stared at him. His question hammered in my ears. It was true; even in my best moments, I could never block my emotions. They were driving me to my goal, all those disorderly bits and peaces of feelings – hate, despair, determination, desire…

"I don't need anything from you!" I screamed.

"You will never kill me, little brother. How easily you comply to everything I say! You waste your lifetime on avenging the people who are not in the condition to even thank you – because I told you so! Don't you think that's funny?"

It might have been funny for him; nevertheless, I didn't see him laughing. Oh no, Uchiha Itachi was a man of no feelings. I desperately wanted to change that dull expression on his face – for but a minute while he was still breathing.

"You're afraid to be alone," he stated. "You're the last."

"I'll kill you!" I shrieked; it came out a bit too emotionally, but I didn't care. Not that I could actually silence myself anymore. "Even if I have to rip my own bleeding heart out with my bare hands!"

I had to make myself move and finish it. His vermilion eyes wandered straight into mine. I shivered and looked away rapidly.

"You'll feel what I want you to feel," I said listlessly. "I want to make you feel."

I wanted to smash that perfectly still face of his. So detached, so beautiful, the goddamn ANBU captain by the age of thirteen…

'_Don't deny me!'_

As much as I hated to admit it, we were so alike. The same eyes, the same thoughtful countenance. I'd always copied him – willingly or not. With every punch I felt my power abandon me. I was so tired. Blood welled up on his sculpted features. The skin split. My fist was coated in warm blood.

The sunrise spilt its first rays over the forest. The red sun was rising.

I pressed my forehead to Itachi's and looked deep into his cold eyes. The eyes of a predator. And when he captured my lips in a semblance of an ardent kiss, I didn't pull away; I didn't move at all. His blood splattered all over my face. I could feel him half-smiling against my lips.

And so I responded, drawing the breath out of him, pinning him harder to the ground with my weight. It came to my mind that he didn't smell of anything. Clearly this man had none of the characteristics of a living being.

He used to – a long time ago. After some particularly hard workout his skin would shed the faint smell of clean sweat. The subtle aroma of spring flowers clung to his hair during the April rains. The smell of soap in the bathroom would tickle my nostrils. And underneath all that – the clear smell of Itachi himself, some inimitable essence of a thousand things combined in Itachi.

A true shinobi is supposed to be invisible, inaudible, intangible.

Cool air licked my skin, bringing me back to reality. Itachi somehow managed to free his hands and swept them over my back, sliding down the shirt.

I gasped into his mouth as he guided his hand lower and stroked me through the rough fabric of my trousers. Faster… Harder… Panting, I kept staring at him, my eyes large because of fear and need. I swore I'd never let him see my fear again. Not after I had run away from him, screaming, begging not to kill me.

Never again would I beg, or run, or hide from him.

I couldn't see him move, but I felt his every action so acutely. His nails grazed my lower abdomen, causing me to moan. I stifled the sound, burying my face on his shoulder.

The world around me turned red and black. The sounds faded. I rocked my hips automatically, adjusting to the feeling of him inside me. Names, faces swirled around me like a hurricane; I was sinking into a suffocating, soundless quagmire.

It was driving me insane. I no longer had the willpower to stare into his scarlet eyes beneath the contrast Tsukuyomi sky. I could feel my determination shatter like a poorly constructed illusion.

I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. I shuddered as the tension seeped out of my muscles. I collapsed on top of him. he was slipping away, intangible, unreal, devoid of flesh.

I must be losing my mind. I wondered if I had made him feel anything. Anything at all.

No, the pleasure was all mine…

I suddenly found myself kneeling before him as he loomed over me, his Akatsuki cloak billowing in the wind. How the hell did he get free!?

My lips trembling, I looked up at him. I failed. Again. Whether he would kill me now (I almost prayed that he would), or let me go humiliated and exhausted, I didn't care. Far, far away my men fought the Akatsuki. Perhaps the battle was already over.

So was mine. The one I'd lost.

Itachi came closer. I drew forward, hoping I could reach my katana in time, but obviously he had no intention to strike. His threw up his hand… and poked me in the forehead. The childish simplicity of the gesture, the one that used to give me monthly bruises, made my blood run cold.

"So long, my foolish little brother," Itachi said vaguely. "Until next time."

I blinked my eyes. I was lying on the bare rocky ground beneath the cold white-bluish sky, my clothes torn, my limbs sore. I was alone. Stillness reigned in the forest.

The red sun had risen.

_July 7, 2007_


End file.
